SCENE X.

Changes to a Cottage in the Foreft.

Enter Rofalind and Celia.

TEver talk to me-I will weep.

Rof. N

Cel. Do, I pr'ythee; but yet have the grace to confider, that tears do not become a man. Rof. But have I not caufe to weep?

Cel. As good caufe as one would defire, therefore

weep.

Rof. His very hair is of the diffembling colour.

Cel. Something browner than Judas's: marry his kiffes are Judas's own children.

Rof. I'faith, his hair is of a good colour.

Cel. An excellent colour: your chefnut was ever the only colour.

Rof. And his kiffing is as full of fanctity, as the touch of holy Beard'.

Cel. He hath bought a pair of caft lips of Diana; a nun of Winter's fifterhood kiffes not more religioufly; the very ice of chastity is in them.

Rof.

• There is much of nature in 8 a nun of Winter's fifterthis petty perverfenefs of Rofalind; he finds faults in her lover, in hope to be contradicted, and when Celia in fportive malice too readily feconds her accufations, the contradicts herself, rather than fuffer her favourite to want a vindication.

7 as the touch of holy bread.] We fhouid read beard, that is, as the kifs of an holy faint or hermit, called the kifs of charity: This makes the compariton juft and decent; the other impious and abfurd. WARBURTON.

hood] This is finely expreffed. But Mr. Theobald fays, the words give him no idea. And 'tis certain, that words will never give men what nature has denied them. However, to mend the matter, he fubftitutes Winifred's fifterhood. And, after fo happy a thought it was to no purpose to tell him there was no religious order of that denomination. The plain truth is, Shakespeare meant an unfruitful filerhood, which had devoted itself to chastity. For as thofe who were of the fifterhood

of

Rof. But why did he fwear he would come this morning, and comes not?

Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him.
Rof. Do you think fo?

Cel. Yes. I think he is not a pick-purfe nor a horfeftealer; but for his verìty in love, I do think him as concave as a cover'd goblet, or a worm-eaten nut. Rof. Not true in love?

Cel. Yes, when he is in; but, I think, he is not in. Rof. You have heard him fwear downright, he was. Cel. Was, is not is; befides, the oath of a lover is no ftronger than the word of a tapfter; they are both the confirmers of falfe reckonings. He attends here in the Foreft on the Duke your Father.

Rof. I met the Duke yesterday, and had much queftion with him: he afked me, of what parentage I was; I told him of as good as he; fo he laugh'd, and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, when there is fuch a man as Orlando.

Cel. O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verfes, fpeaks brave words, fwears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite travers, athwart the heart of his lover;

of the fpring were the votaries of Venus; thofe of summer, the votaries of Ceres; thofe of autumn, of Pomona; fo thefe of the fifterhood of winter were the votaries of Diana: Called, of winter, because that quarter is not, like the other three, productive of fruit or increase. On this account, it is, that, when the poet fpeaks, of what is moft poor, he inftances in winter, in thefe fine lines of Othello,

But riches endless is as poor as winter

To him that ever fears he shall be poor. The other property of winter that

lover; as a puifny tilter, that fpurs his horfe but on one fide, breaks his staff like a noble goofe; but all's brave that youth mounts, and folly guides: who comes here?

Enter Corin.

Cor. Miftrefs and mafter, you have oft enquired After the fhepherd that complain'd of love; Whom you faw fitting by me on the turf, Praifing the proud difdainful fhepherdess That was his miftrefs.

Cel. Well, and what of him?

Cor. If you will fee a pageant truly play'd,
Between the pale complexion of true love,
And the red glow of fcorn and proud difdain;
Go hence a little, and I fhall conduct you,
If you will mark it.

Rof. Come, let us remove;

The fight of lovers feedeth thofe in love:

his Lance broken across, as it was a mark either of want of Courage or Addrefs. This happen'd when the horse flew on one fide, in the carreer: And hence, I fuppofe, arofe the jocular proverbial phiafe of purring the horse only on one fide. Now as breaking the Lance againft his Adverfary's breaft, in a direct line, was honourable, fo the breaking it acrofs against his breaft was, for the reafon above, dishonourable Hence it is, that Sidney, in his Arcadia, fpeaking of the mockcombat of Clinias and Dametas fays, The wind took fuch hold of his Staff that it croft quite over his breast, &c.And to break across was the ufual phrafe, as appears from fome wretched verfes of the fame author, fpeaking of

an unfkilful Tilter,
Methought fome Staves he mift:
if fo, not much amifs:
For when he moft did hit, he ever
yet did mifs.

One jaid he brake across, full

avell it fo might be, &c. This is the allufion. So that Orlando, a young Gallant, affecting the fashion (for brave is here ufed, as in other places, for fafhionable) is represented either unskilful in courtship, or timorous. The Lover's meeting or appointment correfponds to the Tilter's Carreer: And as the one breaks Staves, the other breaks Oaths. The bufinefs is only meeting fairly, and doing both with Addrefs: And 'tis for the want of this, that Orlando is blamed.

WARBURTON,

Bring us but to this fight, and you
I'll prove a bufy Actor in their Play.

Sil.

fhall fay

[Exeunt.

SCENE XI.

Changes to another part of the Forest.

Enter Silvius and Phebe.

Weet Phebe, do not fcorn me-do not, Phebe

Swe

Say, that you love me not; but fay not fo

In bitternefs; the common executioner,

Whofe heart th' accuftom'd fight of death makes hard,
Falls not the ax upon the humbled neck,
But firft begs pardon: will you fterner be
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops?

Enter Rofalind, Celia and Corin.

Phe. I would not be thy executioner;
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell'ft me, there is murder in mine eyes;
'Tis pretty, fure, and very probable,

That eyes, that are the frail'ft and fofteft things,
Who fhut their coward gates on atomies,

2

will you flerner be, Than he that dies and lives by

bloody drops ?] This is fpoken of the executioner. He lives indeed, by bloody Drops, if you will: but how does he die by bloody Drops? The poet muft certainly have wrote-that deals and lives, &c. i. e. that gets his bread by, and makes a trade of cutting off heads: But the Oxford Editor makes it plainer. He reads, Than be that lives and thrives by bloody drops.

Will you fpeak with more fternnefs than the executioner, whofe lips are used to be sprinkled with blood? The mention of drops implies fome part that must be fprinkled rather than dipped. F 4

WARBURTON.

Should

Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!--
Now do I frown on thee with all my heart,

And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee:
Now counterfeit to fwoon; why, now fall down;
Or if thou can'ft not, oh, for fhame, for fhame,
Lye not to fay mine eyes are murderers,

Now fhew the wound mine eyes have made in thee;
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains
Some fear of it; lean but upon a rush,
The cicatrice and capable impreffure

Thy Palm fome moments keeps: but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not;
Nor, I am fure, there is no force in eyes

That can do hurt.

Sil. O dear Phebe,

If ever (as that ever may be near)

You meet in fome fresh cheek the power of fancy, Then fhall you know the wounds invifible

That love's keen arrows make.

Phe. But 'till that time,

Come not thou near me; and when that time comes, Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not;

As, 'till that time, I fhall not pity thee.

Rof. And why, I pray you?-Who might be your mother,

That you infult, exult, and all at once.